@nekophy - First and for most, you’re amazing. Your art is beautiful in every piece. Your OCs are cute and adorable. You YOURSELF is amazing a hyperactive. Keep on being a cute little stick cat! Also I want to draw you as a cat and not a stick cat so sorry for that

@angexci - I can’t say how wonderful you are in any way possible. Your traditional are perfect, but your digital art is so awesome! You are amazing, everytime you post something, either a shitpost or an art piece, I love it all. So continue being a cool bird!

@jakei95 - One question, HOW. THE HELL. ARE YOU. SO FREAKING CALM?? Okay, you’re really, AWESOMELY cool. Your characters are cool, cute, awesome at the same time. Your art is TOO COOL, OKAY?? Also, you’re funny, like EXTREMELY FUNNY. Please continue on being a funny and cool potato! :3 I dunno I drew the background galaxy

@gabi4chan-akatsuki - I know your blog is not art related but I like Vocaloid and your Vocatale AU. I ADORE your Vocaloid covers, it sounds amazing. So just keep on tuning!

@wilyart - I know you don’t post much, but you are still amazing. I don’t have much to say aside from that your art are fabulous.

@kyashee-art - I. LOVE. EVERY. PIECE. OF ART. YOU MAKE. THAT’S ALL I COULD SAY. I can’t say anymore than compliment your art. I made this before you changed your mascot so oops.

@trashy-artzy-me - You’re one of the best traditional artist I’ve ever know. Personaly I feel that you’re cool :). Keep on being amazing!

@blogthegreatrouge - I can’t say you’re cool and amazing enough. You’re the first person i followed, the person that I made my blog for, the first person that I actually motivates me to post on Tumblr. Your art are all from the heavens. Except those sin art. So I hope you never give up and continue on!

@renrink - *inhales* YOU ARE SO COOL. Especially your AU, Reapertale is so cool and I’m waiting for your stuff. Your art are so goddamn wonderful, like DAYUM. I once tried to color like you but I failed so bad, I deleted it. :P. Just continue on being a cool dude gal!

@walkingmelonsaaa - I can’t say your art is amazing enough. Your lines, your coloring, your porotions! It’s beatiful! You are an art goddess to me, to everyone who knows you. So keep on making amazing art! I didn’t know what to draw for the background so I tried and it sucks >:(

@zarla-s - To be honest, I know you from Quotev XD, I read your fanfictions and I’m still waiting and I read the comics and I compared it and I’m surprised. Anyways, your art are so cute, espescially the skelebros! I want to say you’re great! Continue on!

@golzy - I know you’re on hiatus but I wanna say that I want feels too :3.I love your art, you’re talented at a young age. I’m cheering for you! I drew you in your Gay Daddy outfit with some fixing—

@camilaart - Through all the things that happened, you pushed through and fly up above! I wish you would never give up! Ever!

@ania-da-peasant - Though those idiotic people send hate, send you ask that lacks inteligence. You still pushed through. You was pushed down before but you stood up and face them. So never lose hope! Stay DETERMINED!

@mercury-draws-shitz - You’re great, even though it may not feel like it, it is. You’re the first one that actually made fanart for me :’DD So keep being cool!

@thekawaiichibigirl - You are a great friend, though you’re depression is bad, you’re pushing through!! I was– I mean EVERYONE was very worried, so don’t do that ever again. Those people are still hating but you’re answering them in a bad a$$ way!! Sorry Arty Just keep being who you are!!

@anndreemurr - We talk for like once and some how became friends X’DD So just wanna say that your art are everything! It’s so beautiful! So continue being cute and cool :D

@ithinkiamanartist - You’re the one that I talk to the most XDDD omg okay umm.. *inhales* YOUR COOL. You’re just like a cool big sister to me. Da coolest were cat big sister I’ve ever nyew. Your art is coot and cool just like you! Continue on being coot and cool kay sis? :)

@armitie - Yay time for my first friend I ever made here :’D You are a little roll of memes and shitpost oh ye– You’re the meme sister and super SUPER weird. Your art is super duper cute!! ((I like slim bodies)) Though we don’t talk much, I still love you with every inch of— So keep on doin’ it!

@elamania - Time for my second friend that I made here! Where you’ve been? Nah just kiddin’ I’m not gonna joke like that. I must say that your coloring are wonderFUR!! Get it ‘cause you’re a cat? Yeah? Okay ._.

@unlikelykingdomsuit - I know we rarely talk, but I still love your art. You’re real FURtastic! Yeah. Puns. I suck at it. But I still want you to know that care about you. Holy that sounds cheesy

@mikaru-blackspade - I know you’re banned from any social media but you’re still my first Vietnamese friend. You’re a great artist even if you don’t think you are. I wanna say keep on doin’ it!

@pandurrpink - Though we just became friends like a few weeks ago, you still counts as my dear friend. AND HOLY YOUR COLORING IS EVERYTHING AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!! Continue to be an amazing artist Pandurr!

It’s the wonderful @victuurificrec aka Hailey’s birthday today! She does an incredible amount for the fandom and if you don’t know her blog, I suggest you definitely check it out asap. She puts a huge amount of effort into everything that she does and she’s been an incredible supporter of my fic for a long time. So to say thank you and Happy Birthday to Hailey, here’s a little birthday themed Viktuuri ficlet to show my appreciation.

Happy Birthday! xx

“So, you’re telling me that all this panic is just because you can’t decide what to get Viktor
for his birthday?” Phichit asked disbelievingly.

Yuuri groaned, resting his head in his free hand as he
clutched his phone with the other. It was stupid, he knew. Calling Phichit in a
panic after almost a full week of constant worrying and doubt over something
that Viktor probably wouldn’t even care much about but he couldn’t help
himself.

“I’ve been living with him for a year Phichit. We’ve been
together for even longer. Last year he told me he didn’t really celebrate much
but this year it’s different. We’ve been together too long for me to not give
him something, I just don’t know what.”

So a little while ago I came up with the idea of Enjolras being an English Professor and being one of those professors that are really passionate about what they teach, but also one of those professors that has a significant other that their class is familiar with (when I was in middle school one of the teacher’s husband use to come in and bring her something she needed every few weeks and he always wore glasses and a hat when dropping stuff off so everyone would joke that he was her “boyfriend” because of how the outfit made him look so different). This is the first part of a long long series of headcanons so just you wait. Here are the first few!

•Enjolras begins teaching college students and is one of those intensely passionate professor but is also the youngest professor.

He teaches English and is always trying to inspire his students to stand up for what they believe in.

Enjolras has all his students call him “Mr. E” or something of the sort, because being called by his last name with the prefixes “Mr” and “Professor” made him uncomfortable and reminded him of his father.

He’s also got quick responses to the kids who backtalk cause his boyfriend has given him plenty of practice

•His students end up meeting Grantaire early on because R constantly stops in to bring his boyfriend coffee and stuff and then makes jokes to the classes and E doesn’t approve

It gets to the point where every time Grantaire enters the room, the members of whatever class E is teaching stand up with finger guns and go “AYYYYYYY”. Enjolras is not a fan of this practice.

•At Halloween E and R dress in matching costumes but E’s students don’t understand the costume at all until R comes in with one of those pumpkin lattes for his bf (because Enjolras is a basic white girl) and everyone is like “ohhhh” (Idk what the costumes would be but I thought it was a cute idea so send me ideas in my inbox)

•At like the end of November Enjolras mentions at the end of his class that Grantaire is gonna have his work in an art gallery for a week and he wanted E to find out if any of the students wanted to go to the opening night

Almost everyone shows up and they all giggle because almost all of the art is of Enjolras (obviously)

Enjolras smacks Grantaire’s arm (playfully) and is like “why did you only put up the ones of me you jerk, you have plenty of paintings of landscapes” and R is like “cause my paintings of you are my best work” and all the students go “awwww" E is just like “omg I hate you so much you’re such a cruel boyfriend”

•At the end of the semester E makes cookies for everyone and gives the students that aren’t taking classes with him the next semester little poems and they have a little class party

•At the start of the new semester R gets a habit of showing up at the end of E’s morning classes with a coffee for him and a sandwich bag at lunchtime on the days he doesn’t have to work himself

The newer students really enjoy the idea of a cute little artist guy popping in at the end of classes to bring his boyfriend a coffee because they’re adorable

•Valentine’s Day involves an elaborate scheme

Grantaire gets a bunch of paper hearts and writes down every memory related to Enjolras like “going to the first Les Amis meeting and practically dying” “whining to Courf about feelings” “painting you for the first time” “getting drunk with Éponine because pining” “taking you on the tour of favorite sites for our first date” “kissing in front of the Louvre” “Courf and Ferre’s wedding” “Trip to America” “Start of your new job”

The students in Enjolras’s first morning class put them up all around the room and pester Grantaire like crazy because it’s cute

Grantaire also gets those students to all sit at their desks and hold up letters that spell out “I love you, Enjolras”

R also stands in the back of the room with a rose in hiding

Enjolras walks into his classroom that morning and almost bursts into tears

R steps down with the rose and gives his boyfriend a kiss and everyone applauds because they’re adorable

•In March, Grantaire gets a letter in the mail and instantly runs to Enjolras once he reads it

Unfortunately Enjolras is teaching a class and R doesn’t want to interrupt his bf so he just bounces up and down outside the door waiting for the class to finish up

After a while a student raises his hand and goes to Enjolras “Hey Mr.E? Grantaire has been bouncing up and down outside the classroom door for like the last 10 minutes, I think he needs to talk to you”

Enjolras goes out of the room to his excited boyfriend and is shown a letter, reading that Grantaire got into a serious artist program that takes place in July and could be a big boost for him

E and R celebrate almost all night with Courf and Ferre and E definitely regrets it the next morning when he’s teaching an 8 am class with a hangover (He promises himself that he will never do that ever again)

•In April, Enjolras and his class study the Hunchback of Notre Dame (1. Because Victor Hugo and 2. Because Enjolras would love that book tbh) and so the class goes on a field trip to Notre Dame (since it’s only about a 20 minute walk from the school)

Grantaire goes with them because he knows Paris better than anyone and he’s spent lots of time at Notre Dame for inspiration

The kids are convinced it’s because Enjolras just wants an excuse to hang out with his boyfriend

Grantaire thinks it is too but doesn’t mention it

Enjolras wanted to see his boyfriend but also loves the fact that his boyfriend knew so much and loves watching him when he goes on about the stuff so he hopes his students enjoy it

•In May, before the end of the semester the college throws a big party/fair for all the students and also to raise funds for classes

R sets up a little station where he draws portraits of students while E sets up a table with buttons and pins you can buy

A couple students come up to them and ask them to tell the story of how they met. After 7 times, Enjolras puts out a sign saying their Love Story costs 5 bucks to listen to it

•While packing up his classroom some students stick around and chat with Enjolras

The students get all nosy and ask about E’s summer plans

“Since Grantaire got accepted to his program and will be gone for most of July, we’re planning on doing a lot of fun things together in June, also because it’s a big month for us because of our anniversary and my birthday”

•Once all the students leave Enjolras finishes his packing and waits for his boyfriend to come pick him up

Enjolras and Grantaire take the boxes out to the car and E ends up wrapping his arms around his boyfriend who says to him “I’m so glad you took this job, you’ve been really happy since”

EDIT: Originally I used Enjolras more as a first name than last name. I’ve since changed that after finding a first name that fits him well so “Enjolras has all his students call him […] ‘Professor Enjolras’ […] because being called by his last name made him uncomfortable” has been changed to fit the storyline better.

Haunting Me: Y/N is a normal young adult living in New York, but little does she know that she’s a reincarnation of the long lost Bucky Barnes’ fiance from the 1940′s. What happens when she runs into Steve in 2012? Most importantly, what happens when she runs into The Winter Soldier?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x POC Reader

Warnings: Mentions of racism. Flashbacks. Angst.

Since
the little occurrence at the motel twenty four hours ago, you’ve been held in
the Stark tower and interrogated by Alexander Pierce himself. He was convinced
that you were working with Bucky and conspiring with him on multiple terrorist
attacks, which was highly untrue. You had a perfectly clean record; you hadn’t
even missed a single day of school until now, so the thought of you having
anything to do with The Winter Soldier and Hydra was complete bullshit
according to Nick Fury.

He
was there the entire time as well, countering every little accusation that
Pierce threw at you with hard facts. Every attack that had happened in the last
few months happened while you were seeing by numerous people on the other side
of the city. Hell, even your professor confirmed your whereabouts on those
dates, but that didn’t stop Pierce from threatening you.

“I
think we’re forgetting that she was kidnapped,” Fury spoke as he crossed his
arms. “And held hostage for an entire day and a half. There were multiple
witnesses that saw him not only chasing her, but abducting her as well.”

“Which
is why I believe she knows something,” Pierce countered, peering over at you
with a frustrated scowl. “Why on earth would Hydra’s top assassin go absolutely
haywire and kidnap this random woman? Why her? What made him act that way?”

You
rolled your eyes and took another sip of your coffee. You were beyond exhausted
and wanted nothing more than to crawl into your bed and sleep forever. You
hoped and prayed that Bucky would magically appear in your apartment, but you
knew the chances were slim to none.

“No,”
Pierce spoke briefly, before standing from the chair. Without another word, he
left the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

“Look,
kid,” Fury sighed as he sat in the empty chair across from you. He rubbed his
temples with his fingertips. “Did the guy mention anything to you? Where he was
going or anything like that?”

You
shook your head, feeling the familiar burn of tears threating to form in your
eyes. “No,” you answered, swallowing the lump in your throat. He didn’t mention
anything. You both were pretty preoccupied before Steve popped up, but you
completely left those intimate parts out. You didn’t exactly fancy talking
about your sexual escapades with random people.

“Alright,”
he nodded, giving you a tight smile as he stood from the chair. “We’re gonna
have you fill out some paperwork and you’ll be on your way. I’ll send Rogers in
here; he’s dying to talk to you.”

You
nodded, giving him a small smile. However, on the inside, you were screaming.
You had so many bones to pick with Steve at the moment; you wanted all of your
questions answered immediately.

A
few minutes after Fury excused himself, the door squeaked open and you heard
the familiar sound of a shield being set down against the floor. The sound of a
chair scraping against the floor filled the room, followed by a deep sigh.

“Did
you know?” you asked, avoiding his eyes.

After
a long, pregnant pause he answered.

“Yes.”

“How
long?” you demanded.

“The
entire time,” he admitted, his eyes filled with sadness. You scoffed.

“You
knew me,” you confirmed. “The old me. Jane.”

Steve’s
eyes lit up as soon as he heard the name fell from your lips. He nodded once
again, sniffling softly. You looked over at him, expecting him to be in tears
of sadness, but instead, you found him smiling. You looked down at the manila
folder in his hands curiously, your eyes flickering back to him.

“What’s
that?” you asked warily.

Steve
placed the folder down on the table and gently slid it towards you.

“It’s
your life, Y/N.” He replied. You inhaled deeply as you opened the folder.

Inside
there was a giant older photo of you, smiling brightly. It looked as though it
was taken in one of those old school photo booths from the Coney Island
carnivals. Your hair was curled in the typical 1940’s fashion, your lips dark
with the red lipstick you always wore. Your dress was a deep red with little
white polka dots. Beside you was Bucky. He grinned that same dorky grin from your
memory as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and leaned his head against
yours. He looked so happy and full of life.

You
both did.

“What
happened to me?” you asked, feeling the tears run down your cheeks.

“In
1943, you were diagnosed with lung cancer from second hand smoke. You died six
months later.” Steve replied, blinking away his own tears that threatened to
fall.

The
next photo was one of the three of you. Steve was in the middle, with you and
Bucky on either sides of him, holding up what looked to be a birthday cake. You
let out a small laugh at the sight of tiny, pre-serum Steve with a party hat
perched on his head. The three of you looked as though you were laughing
hysterically, enjoying each other’s company.

You
flipped over to the third photo, which was a black and white picture. It was
taken at the beach this time. Only, instead of Bucky or Steve, your arm was
wrapped around a very beautiful and much younger brunette and vice versa. She
was holding a lollipop in her hand, her head resting on your shoulder as she
grinned. You squinted as you took in her features. She was familiar, but not
enough to ring any bells.

“Who
is this?” you asked, picking the photo up.

“That’s
Rebecca Barnes, Bucky’s younger sister.” Steve answered, smiling sheepishly.
“That was taken on the day you both met for the first time. Bucky took the
picture.”

You
felt your head ache once again, and this time, you didn’t fight it.

1941

“Okay, dolls,” Bucky laughed as he
peered into the camera and aimed it at the two of you. “Make sure you actually
look this time, this film is expensive as hell.”

Usually, people didn’t lean in too
close to you. They usually awkwardly stood beside as if they were forced by
some invisible threat. No one liked taking pictures with colored people, and
that instantly sent a wave of anxiety through you. But to your surprise,
Rebecca scooted as close to you as possible and flung her arm over your
shoulders. She rested her head on your shoulder and grinned.

You swore you felt your heart nearly
fly out of your chest. Nevertheless, you found yourself smiling like an idiot
at the camera.

“Okay you two,” he exclaimed. “On
three!”

You both stood as still as possible as
he pressed the button, causing the giant flash to temporarily blind you both.
You giggled as you rubbed your eyes, trying to rid your sight of the little
dark spots that swarmed your vision.

But just as you set your hands down,
you felt Rebecca lean in close to your ear and cup her hands around her mouth,
her eyes flickering over to Bucky as he fiddled with the camera.

“I’m
so glad I met you, Jane!” she whispered with a smile. “I’ve always wanted a
sister!”

“Y/N?”
Steve repeated, this time his voice was a bit louder. You blinked, shaking your
head.

“I
remember!” you breathed, peering back up at a highly concerned Steve as he
stared back at you in confusion. “She told me a secret that day.”

“I
know,” Steve chuckled as he took the photo from your hand and stared down at
it. “You wouldn’t stop talking about it for days. It took you an entire week
for you to finally shut up.”

You
both let out a laugh, a genuine laugh that held no type of ill feelings or
nervousness.

2016

You
found out a whole lot about yourself the past two years.

Your
name was Jane Collins; you lived with your younger sister, June. You grew up in
New York City with your family. You wanted to become an actress like your idol,
Judy Garland. You absolutely loved polka dot dresses and worked at an ice cream
shop named Lucy’s, where you met Bucky in 1939.

Out
of all the things you couldn’t stand, you absolutely hated cigarettes. The mere
smell of them made you automatically nauseous, which was so ironic, seeing as
you ended up addicted to them in this life.

However,
as you began regaining memories, you began to wonder if Y/N Y/L/N was even a
real person anymore. Should you go by your new name in this life, or should you
be Jane? You were so confused.

“Your
life now is a fresh start,” Natasha told you one day as you both met for
lunch. The sun shined down on her fiery red hair, giving you a perfect muse to
draw later. “Sometimes it’s best to leave the past in the past.”

Those
words struck you like a cord. She was right. As much as you wanted to be Jane
for Steve, you weren’t that woman anymore. Sure, it would cause comfort for
him, but you were you. You had to live in the moment and be who yourself.

Ever
since you found out your true nature, Steve began bringing you around the tower
more often. You quickly formed a friendship with everyone, especially Wanda,
who was intrigued by your story the most. You began to think of the Avengers as
a little second family.

You
spent your days attending school, trying to focus on your career and your
studies. But no matter what, your thoughts always went back to the same man,
Bucky Barnes. Where was he? Was he safe? You prayed he was.

Natasha
had tried to set you up with a few men here and there, but you found yourself
denying them each time. It wasn’t out of spite or anything, you just…weren’t
interested. Truth be told, you weren’t interested in anyone else than a certain
brown haired super soldier. You knew it was childish, but you didn’t care
anymore. You wanted to see him again, and if that meant waiting around like a
crazy cat lady, so be it. Steve tried to tell you how unrealistic that was, but
you only responded by raising your fuzzy sock covered foot and giving him a
gentle kick to the face, sending him flying off your couch.

2017

You
made your way up the final stair case in exhaustion. Your hands were occupied
by your large, freshly dried canvas that you would be turning in for your final
tomorrow. This would be your final project before graduation and you had to
make sure it was perfect, even if that meant staying up until five am like you
did the night before.

When
you approached your door, fishing your keys out of your coat pocket, you froze.

Your
door was open.

Sometimes,
you tended to rush as you left and forgot simple things, but not once had you
forgotten to lock your door –much less forgetting to close it. You gently
pushed the door open, wincing as it squeaked loudly. That was the worst idea
ever.

You
peeked inside your darkened living room. Everything looked exactly the same;
nothing was missing from what you could tell. You took a wary step into the
room, setting your canvas down against the wall and pulling out your small stun
gun that Tony had given you for your birthday this year.

You
found it extremely odd that someone would break in, only to leave everything
there and not take anything. You made your way into your bedroom, kicking the
door open and peeking inside. Nothing. Not even the light was on. You turned
around and made your way into the second room in your apartment, which was strictly
used for your paintings.

Immediately,
you began to panic. What if someone from school vandalized your paintings? You
had an entire year’s worth of work in there; most of it was going into the
gallery as well. You felt your heart race as you neared the door, which was
slightly ajar. Completely not how you left it. With a deep breath, you opened the door.

And
you felt your heart drop into your stomach.

“W-What
the fuck?” you breathed, your eyes filling with tears.

You
watched as a very normal Bucky Barnes turned around and looked into your eyes. Instead
of the cold, dead ones you came in contact with two years ago, you were faced
with two lively, ocean blue orbs. They were beautiful, even more than you
remembered.

so i somehow messed up answering your ask directly, but this was requested by @vexingcosmos! i’m sorry it took me forever, but i actually did some research because i know NOTHING about smoking. also, this got long. like…really long.

it began as most things do, where the Foxes are concerned: with a bet

it’s a Friday night and the Monsters have come to Columbia, and for once, the upperclassmen were allowed to come along

Matt’s birthday was on Wednesday, and he just wants to hang out with his best friend and favorite human Neil okay let him live

so Neil *asked* Andrew and well…we all know how that goes

the whole gang is having a grand ol’ time

Aaron, Nicky, Allison, and Dan have been on the dance floor practically since the second they walked into Eden’s

Allison dragged a reluctant Renee out to join them within the first hour, and this girl can DANCE don’t fight me on this

Kevin has been drunk since before they even left Sweetie’s (snuck in a flask, the little troublemaker)

he’s so far gone that he couldn’t even tell you who the first striker in Exy history to reach 1,000 goals was. he may or may not be aware that he is swaying.

Matt has been hanging out at the table with Neil and a rather annoyed Andrew

Matt has convinced Neil to take way too many shots for his tiny body to handle, but Andrew is there, so he’s trying not to worry about it

sometime around the seventh shot, the rest of the gang makes their way over to the table

Andrew’s hand is on Neil’s thigh, and his pointer finger has been tapping incessantly for the past twenty minutes

and Neil can only take so much, even from Andrew

he stares at Andrew as subtly as he can (i.e. not very) in an effort to catch his attention

Andrew eventually drags his gaze over to Neil and lazily cocks his head to the side, as if to say what could you possibly want at this moment in time, Neil

Neil looks pointedly to Andrew’s hand and then jerks his head towards the exit

Neil is, of course, very unsubtle with all of this

Kevin turns to stare at them and says, in a barely intelligible voice, “if you’re gonna hook up, you could at least wait until we’re back at the house and i’m passed tf out”

Andrew is about to turn his whiskey glass into a weapon for the munchkin comment when Aaron suddenly pipes in

“nah, Andrew needs to take care of his other habit”

it is now very quiet in their group of normally very loud people

everyone looks to Aaron for him to clue them in on what he means

everyone except Renee, who has silently moved closer to Andrew just in case he really does decide to use that whiskey glass

Aaron continues: “you know what smoking does to your body over time, right? i assume i don’t need to go all Bill Nye on your ass and draw you a picture”

Aaron becomes Dr. Minyard when he is very drunk. trust me.

Andrew doesn’t say anything, just stares at Aaron. is he even blinking? probably not

“who am i kidding. you don’t care. you’ll just let this ruin you. i bet you couldn’t quit even if you tried”

that gets everyone’s attention

Nicky: “did he just say the B word”

Allison: “looks like it’s that time again where i get even richer”

Matt, softly: “oh shit”

Neil is about to jump in and open up a can of whoop ass on Aaron when Andrew’s steady voice comes from beside him

“fine”

everyone, collectively: “WHAT”

Andrew rolls his eyes. “fine. i bet that i can quit completely within a week”

complete silence. everyone just stares. shock. disbelief.

Andrew gets up and starts heading towards the exit, dragging Neil along with him

********

Neil decides to join Andrew in Operation Quit Smoking

but two days into it, they’re both at their wits end

they definitely aren’t about try anything medication-related, for obvious reasons

after doing a bit of research related to natural methods like adding more of certain vitamins into your diet, Neil confronts Andrew

“you know we have to. we don’t have another choice”

“fuck you, i’m not doing that”

“Andrew. it’s our last option.”

[after a long, defeated sigh] “fine. but you have to ask him”

so Neil does the one thing he wished he’d never have to do with anything that isn’t Exy

he asks Kevin to help

when they wake up the next day, Kevin has printed out color-coded meal plans for both Andrew and Neil

Andrew Minyard does not cry. But let me tell you. Looking at that list of food options…it was an extremely close call.

on every single day, the breakfast item was a green smoothie

Andrew thought he’d rather just pay the entire $500 betting pool off himself

but Neil. precious, precious Neil. tells Andrew that they can definitely do it, and wouldn’t it be great to prove Aaron wrong and make him lose money that he probably would have spent on Katelyn?

so they pull themselves up by their metaphorical bootstraps and follow all of Kevin’s rules. every. single. one.

halfway to their deadline, Andrew finally wants to kill everyone slightly less than he did yesterday. he marks this as massive progress.

Neil didn’t really smoke in the first place, but he’s still having trouble finding something to replace that feeling he gets from the smell

he’ll be okay without it, he thinks. he has Andrew to keep him steady, to ground him when he feels like he could float away from reality for good

by the following Friday, the Foxes have gathered in the girls’ room to hear the final word and settle their bets

Kevin has become the official referee of this particular bet

everyone waits in suspense, heartbeats flying at the thought of all the cash they are either about to lose or gain

Kevin takes his role seriously, as he does everything else

“i declare that, as of this day at 4:27 pm, Andrew and Neil have gone three consecutive days without one cigarette. i predict that they will be able to continue resisting, if they keep following my suggested guidelines”

the last bit is said with a hard look at Neil and Andrew. of course.

Allison, Matt, and Dan don’t try to hide the smug looks on their faces as Aaron and Nicky hand over entirely too much for a bunch of college students to bet with

Renee chose not to participate, but her new bruises say that she’s been helping Andrew cope all week

Aaron grudgingly looks back to Andrew, holding out his hand with his share of the winnings

Andrew just stares at him. blinks. turns around and walks out the door.

Neil edges out of the room to follow him up to the roof while everyone is arguing over who gets Andrew’s share, since he’s obviously not taking it

Neil reaches Andrew and sits beside him with their shoulders touching

they’re looking out over campus when Neil turns to Andrew

“i’m proud of you”

Neil gets a disgusted scoff and a hand pushing his face away in return

A/M: Of course inspired by Ed Sheeran’s Shape of You, I feel like a story based off it was a long time coming for me. Mentions of some sexy time but not exactly R rated. I also just spent a good 10 minutes staring at different gifs of Harry, what a hard job that was😉 Hope you like it! Tell me if you do Xx

——-

You came to the bar
with a couple of friends, celebrating a friend’s birthday. The plan was to take
back a few drinks, go back to your friend’s place, and just have fun for the
night. With everyone having busy lives, it was time to let loose.

However, this bar
wasn’t exactly your scene, but for your friend’s sake you tried to get
comfortable, and with the liquid courage flowing through your system you were
able to do so.

You took to the little
dance floor of the place and danced with your friends, and sang along loudly to
the music. Other people at the bar had joined in, dancing with their friends,
or dancing with yours. You eventually noticed that the whole place was up and
dancing, except for one guy who was sat on a stool at the bar alone.

With the shots from
earlier still in your system, you felt yourself walk over, taking the empty
stool next to him.

At your presence the
guy looked up for the first time away from his glass. He was young, and looked
puzzled to see you there. However you just smiled, he was cute.

“What are you
doing here all alone?” You asked.

“I’m sorry. Do I
know you?"

"Probably not.
I’m [Y/N].” You smiled, and you felt relieved to see him smile back.

“I’m
Harry."

"Well tell me
Harry. Why are you sitting here all alone?"

He looked you up and
down and began to chuckle at your question. But ​in your very tipsy state you didn’t think too
much of it.

You waved at the
bartender and she gave an acknowledging nod, "A shot for me and my friend
Harry here.” You asked.

“Oh you don’t
have to do that."

"Nonsense, it’s
one on me. Like not physically on me. Not those kinds, but it’s on my tab. It’s
time for you, Mr. Grumpy, to get out on the dance floor and dance."

He continued to
chuckle and you felt relieved to hear it.

The bartender poured
out two vodka shots and slid them to you both, and walked away to tend to
someone else.

"Come on Harry.
Either you can come have fun on the dance floor, or you can sit and sulk by
yourself for the rest of the night. Your choice, I won’t force you.” You
assured, holding your glass awaiting hopefully for him to clink the two
together.

A/N: Written for @sis-tafics and @eyes-of-a-disney-princess Hubba Bubba Birthday Challenge. Sorry it’s like a week late. Life happened. This also wasn’t what I was originally gonna write but again…life happened. Sorry.

“So
this is pretty nice.” Dean chuckled, grabbing your hand across the diner table.
Sam and Eileen volunteered to spend the night watching JoJo to give Dean and
you the night to yourselves and you’d spent it eating greasy diner food at an
old dive bar. It was very much your style. “Not that I don’t miss my little
girl but adult time is fun too.”

“You know
she’s probably sprawled across our bed, right?” Dean snorted a laugh and
nodded, knowing you were right. She always did that when you were both gone
unless she passed out on the couch with Sam or in Sam’s bed.

“Well, this
is a treat.” A voice sneered from behind you as the diner suddenly went dark
and silent. High heels got closer and you turned, staring at a face you recognized
quite well. “Never thought I’d run into you two again. Where’s that precious
little girl of yours?” The tall blonde staring down Dean and you was a witch
you both failed to kill several years ago, Gretchen, but you managed to kill
her entire coven and family. You thought you ran her off, never to be seen
again, but you were apparently wrong. “Come on…what’s her name again? Joanna
Celeste Winchester?”

You gritted
your teeth, unsure of how she knew about your daughter. “Who?” You decided to
play stupid and Dean followed along.

“You must
have us confused with other hunters. We don’t have a kid.”

“What
dumbass would bring a kid into this life?” You scoffed, reaching for the gun
tucked away in your holster.

“Let’s keep this between the two of us, okay?” Feyre mutters to Az as he slips, unobtrusively into her bedchamber and she jumps to her feet, hurrying to meet him.

The shadowsinger just nods, ever dutiful to his High Lady’s every wish.

“No-one saw you come up here, did they?” she can’t help herself asking anxiously, glancing over his shoulder as though expecting Rhys to burst through the door at any moment and catch them together.

Azriel just gives her a flat look that implies he’s insulted she would even ask such a thing of him. Perks of being a super spy, she supposes.

“Alright, I’m ready,” she says, holding out a hand in invitation. Azriel grips it tightly and they winnow into shadow and darkness. They emerge moments later onto the pleasantly warm Velaris streets, pleasantly bustling but not overly crowded, something neither of them would have appreciated.

They set off together, Azriel quietly leading the way while Feyre follows, smiling and nodding at some of the people they pass who wave greetings to her. “Thanks so much for this, Az,” she puffs out, checking her bag to ensure she brought her purse with her. She doesn’t usually, typically relying on the convenient credit she has in most stores, but she doesn’t want Rhys to have any inclination of her purchase today. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“It’s no trouble,” he says, leading them down into a quiet, shaded street and walking to the very end, a small store tucked into the corner. “I live to serve at the High Lady’s pleasure.” She squints up at him, one eyebrow raised, and he smirks. “And entertaining as his last birthday was, I understand it’s not an experience you want to repeat.”

“No,” Feyre groans, burying her face in a hand at the shame of it. She has many talents and she loves her mate dearly, as Azriel knows, but gift buying has never been her strong-suit. And the bastard has a habit of finding exactly what she wants every single year without fail. Just once she wants to get him something absolutely perfect. Fortunately, she has a secret weapon in the form of Azriel.

“Really though,” she grumbles, pushing into the shop after him, “Who’s allergic to strawberries?”

“Rhys,” Azriel hums simply in that way that implies he knows everything in the world and that nothing could ever surprise him.

Well, he had been surprised last year when Rhys had taken a large bite from one of the chocolates she had delightedly given him and then promptly started choking. The shadowsinger hadn’t been expecting that. Unfortunately neither had she.

“And Keir,” he adds as an apparently innocent afterthought.

Feyre blinks, startled, looking round at him. She supposes it’s not too odd, Keir and Rhys are related, even distantly. Still, “I suspect that comes from the list you have tucked away somewhere that details every known method of killing that bastard; not a concern for the steward’s meal choices?” She muses lightly. That tugs a small, dark smirk out of Az.

Azriel leads her to the back of the shop then stops in front of one of the small, dusty glass-fronted cabinets to let her see what he’s picked out for her. She opens her mouth to point out that the display is stuffed full of items, she isn’t sure which one he means, but she stops when she sees it, her face lighting up in a smile. Hugging a rather startled Az she whispers, “It’s perfect.” And is relieved when he accepts the hug, smiling, patting her rather awkwardly on the shoulder to convey his acceptance of her gratitude.

Once Feyre has made her purchase and had it carefully wrapped up by the owner, who seems friendly with Azriel, well, as friendly as anyone can be with him, the two wander back out onto the streets of Velaris. Feyre insists on dragging him into a nearby shop and pressing a large amount of fine differently coloured balls of wool into Az’s protesting hands and then further insists on taking him for a quiet cup of tea.

She rarely spends time alone with the shadowsinger, he always seems to be out somewhere on some secret mission sometimes she doubts even Rhys knows about. That or closeted up in his room with Mor, enjoying the time he has with her. Usually she only has conversations with him like this when they all go to Rita’s and neither of them feel much like dancing for an hour or so.

It’s nice, though. Azriel has a quiet, oddly calming presence, even with the shadows darting around him, whispering, always whispering. There’s a comfort to being around him, a sense of safety, and an odd feeling that she could tell him anything and he would simply nod and understand. As a result, Az is the one she’s gone to more times than she can count when she’s had a difficult decision about the court to make that she doesn’t want to put on her mate. He inevitably listens to all she has to say and offers a few quiet insights that help her make up her mind. She values his opinion, and his friendship, more highly than she thinks he’ll ever know.

Not longer after they’ve sat down in a comfortable booth by the window, they’re both brought two teas and slices of cake that she hadn’t ordered, but that she suspects Azriel did, given that they’re both topped with liberal amounts of strawberries and that their arrival prompts a rare, mischievous smile to blossom across his lips.

Feyre nibbles at her cake then decides now is as good a time as any to bring up what she wants to, as well as have her revenge for this little dig about the strawberries. Looking slyly at Az over the rim of her cup she says innocently, “I’m sorry to take you away from Mor, I know you just got back, you must have been wanting to spend some time with her.”

Azriel just blinks at her, saying nothing, as he drops a lump of sugar into his tea. Then another. Then another. She’s discovered, from these little retreats they make to this place from time to time when they both need a little peace and quiet, that he takes an inordinate amount of sugar in his tea. He had confessed to her once, with a small smile, that it was his one and only weakness.

“Mm,” Feyre muses, taking a small sip of tea, “Wouldn’t you rather have spent the morning with her than me?”

Azriel blinks, apparently genuinely bemused by this comment, “You’re my friend, Feyre,” he says quietly, sincerely, “I like spending time with both of you.” Damn. She really should leave the subtlety and intrigue up to Az as well as the gift choosing. And he’s too earnest and good-natured, there’s no fun in teasing him at all.

“Azriel,” she says quietly, a soft smile tugging at her lips, “I know.” He blinks owlishly up at her again, clearly implying you know what? And she just scowls at him because if she doesn’t get to tease him then she’s not playing games with him either.

A deep flush of colour burns into Az’s cheeks as he stares at her, “How?” he rasps eventually and she smirks smugly at him.

“You’re not the only one who can know other people’s secrets, Az,” she says with a grin, taking another pointed bite of the strawberry cake, which really isn’t half bad. She might have to bring Rhys here at some point, then she might have half a chance of finishing a dessert on her own without the High Lord’s spoon magically making its way over to her plate while he twitters about ‘mating bond equality’ and ‘what’s yours is mine, Feyre darling’.

Azriel’s face darkens at that and a low, protective growl rumbles in his chest, “Who told you?” he demands, hands curling into fists.

She starts in surprise at the sudden black venom in his voice and opens her mouth to say something when Azriel freezes, apparently realising how he’d reacted. The blush on his cheeks darkens and his wings twitch, clearly uncomfortable. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs quietly, and she has her suspicions that he and Mor haven’t been together for long confirmed, based on his response.

“It’s alright, I understand,” she says quietly, and she does. That need to protect, to keep her safe must be heightened for the two of them after the amount of time they spent apart. She smiles, “And no-one told me, Az,” she huffs, a faint hint of playful scolding in her tone, “I can find some things out without the help of you and your spies, you know, I’m not blind.”

“Says the woman who didn’t notice for nearly fifty years that her mate is allergic to strawberries,” Az mumbles into his tea, but she notes the playful spark in his eyes and resists the urge to kick him under the table with difficulty.

Instead she reaches over and takes his hand, “I’m happy for you, Azriel. For both of you. You deserve this,” she gives his hand a soft squeeze and finally manages to coax a faint smile from him. “But why-”

“Didn’t we tell anyone?” Azriel supplies for her. She supposes he has to find some way to claw back his composure, the best way he knows how, making sure he knows everything she does. Mostly. She nods. He shifts uncomfortably, wings rustling in agitation at his back as he shrugs. “We would have, when we were ready,” he says quietly. “We’re just…Not.” She’s never seen him so discomposed before, he’s usually the picture of articulate eloquence. But Mor…She does this to him. “Not yet, Feyre, please-”

She gives his hand another quick squeeze, smiling, “I won’t breathe a word of it to anyone, Az, I promise.” He smiles, nodding his head, and thanks her.

They finish their tea and cake and then Feyre winnows him to Mor’s townhouse before returning herself to the House of Wind to finish up her preparations for Rhys’ birthday.

The next day, her mate is delighted by the delicate ornament of crystal Illyrian wings she gives him, after having spent all of the day before painting them, accenting the details until they’re a near perfect replica of her mate’s own.

Feyre notes the way Azriel’s scarred, gentle hand slides around Mor’s waist, squeezing, drawing her in close, just for a moment while no-one else is watching….But misses the way Rhys raises his glass of wine in Azriel’s direction while she’s chatting to Mor, thanking his brother for picking out the gift. Az nods and smiles. The two of them are content to keep this particular secret between themselves for the rest of their long eternities.

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6Words: 6.6kGenre: Angst, Multiple Personality!AuSummary: Jeon Jungkook is a puzzle with too many missing pieces from his past and too many sides. Somehow, it’s become your job to solve him.→ Inspired by the Korean Drama - Kill Me Heal MeWarnings: Topics of mental health, mentions of death and medical disorders.Disclaimer: Although this piece of work required lots of in-depth research and was attempted to be as accurate as possible, at the end of the day, I am not a psychologist and this is fanfiction. Specific things may be altered or exaggerated for story-telling purposes. Please take all medical terminologies and procedures with a grain of salt.

They’re covered, somewhere in the depths of his most vulnerable mind - for reasons you don’t know. It’s a puzzle with thousands of missing pieces but Jungkook is slowly being able to assemble some corners together; a mural gradually becoming tangible.

“I’ve been thinking…” His clammy hands rub together. “And I think I can remember….something.”

“Can you describe it to me?”

His lids flutter shut, a scrunch between his brows as he dives into the vague images. “My mother. It’s my fifth birthday. And I’m outside in the backyard. There are some balloons tied to the fence. I’m throwing one up into the air. It’s blue and really pretty against the sky, floating and drifting slowly. I remember just staring at it before my mother brings out the cake. She smiles at me and then someone…someone….calls my name.”

Tony woke slowly, alone in his bed, because last night hadn’t been a date night with anyone.
He kind of enjoyed it, the few nights he got to sleep alone, because with everyone home now it didn’t happen very often.
So he took a long minute to stretch and scratch his hair and sprawl his legs out–
–and kicked somebody.

“What the hell?” He sat up and stared sleepily at the curled up form of Natasha, just red hair peeking over a stack of blankets. “Widow, what are you doing in my bed?”

“Like you don’t know Stark.” She mumbled and scooted closer against him.

“And you’re cuddling? You’re not a cuddler. Come on, your date night isn’t until Thursday, everybody else will get mad if we break the rules.”

“I’m not breaking any rules.” She yawned and sat up. “I just wanted to say happy birthday.” She leaned into him for a long, slow kiss, then pulled away to squeeze his hand. “I bought us ice cream but figured you didn’t want that in bed with you. Happy Birthday Tony. I can’t wait for tonight.” Then she climbed out of bed and he had just a split second to admire her legs in those tiny shorts before she slipped out the door.

Maybe it was a little unsettling that she had been able to sneak into his room and lay there for who knows how long with out him knowing just to kiss him good morning, but he grinned anyway because he loved it.

You and Yoonoh were supposed to be meant for each other, but things aren’t always happily ever after.

This was supposed to turn out a little differently, but, even so, i like it. ;))) this uses the soulmate au of like. when you write on your skin or whatever your soulmate can see it and vice versa. Enjoy ;).

She loved the feel of air whipping through her hair, of the strain on her back muscles as she rose herself high enough to find a current she could rest on, the crisp scent of pure oxygen that swirled above the clouds.

He favourite part of flying, however, had less to do with the act itself and more with the company.

“Bet I could reach that cloud that looks like an upside down cat first!” Natsu called, wings beating steady and strong as he held his position beside her. His wings were coloured like flames, yellows and oranges shimmering in the down of his feathers and close to the arch of bone that structured them, reds a rich jewel tone at the tips of his feathers with blacks and greys scattered along the outer layers like hidden shadows in the forest they played in.

“And what do I get if I win?” Lucy asked, grinning at her best friend’s challenge. While Natsu may be fast, Lucy was faster, not weighed down by a seven-foot wingspan and coiled muscles. Lucy’s wings were much more modest in length, only six feet across, but she knew they were beautiful in a way that was unmatched in her hometown. They were pure white with a soft golden undertone from the down feathers, silver tips of her outer feathers reflecting light and creating a glow that surrounded her like a halo in the moonlight.

Or at least that’s what Natsu had told her that one night they had stolen a bottle of strawberry mead from the guild kitchen and had picnicked along the edge of the lake under the light of the stars.

“I’ll fix all damaged boards and doors in your roost, but when I win you hafta cook for me for a week!” Natsu crowed, circling Lucy in an effort to expel his growing restless energy.

“My roost is damaged because you keep crash landing in it,” Lucy pointed out sourly, following Natsu’s movements as she kept her face towards him as she talked. “I mean I leave the window open every night, how you keep overestimating your landing is beyond me.”

“So you do leave it open for me,” Natsu leered, rising slightly so he could look down at Lucy. She felt heat crawl along her neck and she pouted at being caught. Stupid boy.

“Go!” Lucy shouted instead, allowing herself to drop slightly into the current below them and get a quick boost as she shot towards the cloud Natsu had pointed at.

“Cheater!” Natsu howled, following quickly on her heels. Lucy kept her arms close to her sides, laughing as Natsu cursed her loudly, voice barely carrying through the air rushing past them, words lost to the wind. Time blurred as they raced, Lucy’s heart pounding and sweat starting to bead on her temples and hairline, whipped away before she could fully register their creation. Lucy saw Natsu start to crawl into her peripheral, his eyes glinting with competitive joy and challenge. She swore under her breath, pushing herself to beat harder and cut through the air before her, weaving through different air currents and timing her beats of her wings for the most energy gained, every decision made in a millisecond through reflex alone.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. Giving him anything for ammunition is a bad idea, and you’re already in a bad enough state. He takes a chair, and sits down in front of you. He pats your cheek, “We could have been a family before now, ya know? But your idiot mother gave you up. Can you imagine, a mother giving up their child?” You watch out of the corner of your eye as you mother flinches. “But don’t you worry, we won’t be separated anymore. Not now that daddy knows about you!”

Silence engulfs the space for a minute before he says, “First things first Harley! A change of clothes. We need a family look! I’ll leave you to it.”

She smiles, “You got it Mista J.”

You say nothing as Joker leaves, and Harley starts rooting through a trunk, tossing out clothes as she goes. Your voice is quiet, “You did the right thing.”

She turns to face you, and cocks her head. You elaborate, “Leaving me with my mother …your sister. You gave me my best chance.”

Her face turns to one of anger, and her hands connects with your cheek, “She’s not your mother! I AM!”

You shake your head, to recover from the slap, and you see the horror on her face as she realizes what she’s done. It’s nowhere nears as bad as what Joker’s done, but you know you have to play off of it. She reaches out to touch the now swelling cheek, and you flinch. Quietly you say, “I didn’t think you were the same.”

She stares at you, “What?”

“I didn’t think you’d hurt me like he would. You kept me safe. First for those nine months, then again when you gave me to your sister. I wouldn’t have lived to see my first birthday if you had taken me to him.”

She shakes her head, “That’s not true, Mista J, your daddy …”

“Would have killed me for crying. He’ll kill me now.” You take a deep breath, “Mama, look at me. Look at what he’s done to me. To you. He’ll kill us.”

Her lip quivers, “We’re going to be a family.”

You shake your head, “No. We’re not. I can’t do what you do. I can’t hurt innocent people.”

“It get’s easier.”

“Is that really what you want for me? For killing to be easy? For bad things to be easy? Aunt Libby said you wanted the best for me. Was that as lie?” You can see her wavering, “Don’t you love me mama?”

A second later her arms are around you, “My baby, I’m so sorry my baby.”

You take a deep breath, “Ivy sent me to you mama. She’s gave me something to help us get safely out, but you need to untie me.”

The ropes are cut a moment later, and you reach up to your ear. You remove the small plant that’s twisted around there, and whisper, “I have her Ivy, and we need help.”

The onslaught of plants that follows is massive. And Joker’s screams of terror are even worse. When that giant Venus fly trap appears and swallows you, you start to hyperventilate. Harley pulls you close and rubs your back, “It’s okay baby, we’ll be out soon.” she says.

Sure enough it opens into a greenhouse, with Ivy waiting for the both of you. What follows is hours of vaccinations and treatments of your wounds. While she can’t heal the broken arms, she can heal the bruises and cuts. You watch on the TV as Batman and the boys take the Joker down.

You fall asleep at some point, and when you wake it’s to Harley running her fingers

through your hair. You blink at her, before sitting up. “What time is it?”

“Little past one …in the afternoon.”

“I missed school.”

She nods, “Sorry about that.”

“One day won’t kill me.”

There’s silence before she says, “Ivy told me how you came for me.”

You look her in the eye, “I won’t do it again. When you keep making the same mistake over and over again, it’s no longer a mistake. He beats you mama, he beat me. He doesn’t love us. We’re possessions. I can stay out of his hands. I know I can. The question is, can you?”

“Snooks …” You raise an eyebrow at the nickname and she gives sad smile, “I kept you for the first three months, ya know? Figured I could really do it. Then some bastard recognized me, and Mista J’s enemies were on my ass in a heartbeat. That’s when I knew. But that was my nickname for you, Snooks.”

You sigh, “I can’t be around you if you’re going to go back to him. You have to choose, me or him.”

She gives you a smile, “You can’t stay with me.”

“No, but I can visit. If you stay here. If you stay out of trouble, I’ll come by twice a week. We can have a relationship. But he can’t be a part of it.”

Damian is waiting for you when you get home from the hospital. You’ve got a brand new cast, and orders to rest. Your parents say nothing, as he follows you up to your room. He says nothing, as you cuddle with him on your bed. You fall asleep, and when you wake up it’s to Damian drawing on your cast.

“Pretty.”

He shrugs, “I got bored.”

There’s a moment of silence before you ask, “You know?”

He nods, “I know.”

“Sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“Takes time. Hell, you know my story.”

“So, does Jason hate me?”

“No. Something about poetic justice or something.”

You nod, “Hmm. She’s staying with Ivy. Says she chose me.”

Damian’s question is a whisper, “Think it’ll last?”

“I don’t know.”

Harley’s promise to you lasts a long time. She stays with Ivy for years. You see the relationship there, it makes you smile. She goes out occasionally, covertly, and usually with Ivy. You keep your distance as Nightengale when she shows up. And so does Damian. Eventually you bring him along. He calls the women psycho’s they think he’s adorable.

“So when are you going to do something about that?”

You stare at your mother, “Do something about what?”

“Damian.” You blanch, “He’s my best friend. My brother. Nothing more.” She gives a pout, but you have nothing else to say. It’s true. Damian is your brother, and neither of you wants anything more.

The day your mother breaks her promise is the day Joker escapes from Arkham. He kidnaps your adoptive mother, and nearly kills her. That’s when Harley seeks him out. You arrive on the scene too late. You find them dead, they’d fallen from high up, and the broken necks explain everything.

You leave your father for the crows, but your mother … You bury her on a hill outside the city. A place where the sun shines, and it’s quiet. It seems odd that the sun shines so brightly on the day of the funeral, but you don’t question it. You stare at the headstone, with Ivy on one side of you and Damian on the other.

After a moment you say, “She’d hate it out here.”

Damian cracks a smile, “Too boring.”

Ivy laughs, “The last years of her life were like that. She’d grown accustomed. How’s your mother doing?”

“Good, mad the doctors wouldn’t let her come. Dad’s keeping her in the hospital for therapy though. Doctors say she’ll make a full recovery.”

Ivy hmms, “You two were the most important things in her life.”

You nod, “She was a protector at heart. Spent her whole life protecting her sister and then me.”

You watch vines wrap around the headstone before Ivy says, “I’ll see you Thursday Arlecchino.”

“Bye Ivy.”

When she’s gone Damian says, “You’re keeping up with the visits?”

You shrug, “She seems to do less harm that way.” The two of you begin walking towards his car, “Haven’t you noticed the drop?”

“Yep, just figured Harley was keeping her busy.”

You smile, as you climb into your car. You’d been haunted by your parent’s past your entire life. Then you’d met Damian Wayne and that had slowly changed. You’d found yourself, and relationship with your mother before she’d died. It was time to move on, and create a new legacy, as Nightengale, and a force for good.

A/N: Alright, well, here is my late submission for @roxy-davenport‘s birthday writing challenge. I had the prompts: Demon!Dean, Claiming sex, Nightmare on Elm Street, and the quote “Aren’t you precious?” I had a lot of fun with this one, and went more for the dickish Demon!Dean than evil. Much love and thanks to @kayteonline and @ilsawasanacrobat for the beta work and read-throughs and encouragement! You both rock!!

Hope you enjoy it. Please note the warnings. Feedback and constructive criticism are amazing things, please give them to me.

Year after year, the reason changed, and at first, you meant it. Bartending was supposed to be temporary. Just something to fill your free nights and get some extra cash in your pocket. Now, though, if you were honest, you kept at it because you really enjoyed it. All of it - the fast pace, the free entertainment, and sometimes the company.

Flirting came with the job. The sex? That was where you had to be careful. You didn’t need any overzealous clingy partners hanging around, so you were fairly cautious and discreet, enjoyed more casual flings as they came and went.

Your current FWB, Glen, sat at the end of the bar, out of the way, but close enough that you could still talk and flirt as you worked.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” you teased, making up another drink for him.

“Not yet,” he answered with a quick up-down of his eyebrows, making you roll your head back in mock disgust.

“You’re so fucking lame.” You threw a coaster at him and went back to work, flicking off bottle caps and pouring mixers as the bar began to fill. You were scanning the crowd, keeping an eye out for your regulars and anyone looking to flag you down for another drink when you caught sight of him. With that gorgeous face you’d have to struggle to forget, he sat casually at the middle of the bar. He already had a glass in front of him and you wondered how you’d missed him earlier. If you weren’t already warm and flushed from the rush of work, the look he was sending your way would have done it.

Requested by Anon: Oh, I love Lance. I really enjoyed ‘Give me that gold’ and I’m patiently (longingly) waiting for the next part of 'not an Athlete’. Can I request something about going on a date with him on valentines day and getting a bit irritated when the waitress won’t stop flirting with him? Smut and a fluffy ending, if possible? As fluffy as anything with Lance Tucker can be, anyways. Thank you!Ratings: Mature/ Implied smut, I went more fluff route. I am writing smut on my Tucker series so I kinda, wanted to focus on smut. Word Count: 1,670 - I’m still editing but I wanted this up!

Note: AGAIN, I feel like whenever I write smut I say this but I am not pro-smut writer, I am not one of those blogs that find it easy. I am learning every day, so hopefully, you see the improvements! - Rosalee

“You didn’t have to make reservations, I am happy spending the evening inside with take out.” You smile as you entered the luxurious restaurant, arm wrapped around your waist and lightly tensing around you.

You look up at your boyfriend of almost three years, who was lightly chuckling. “We do that every night; I wanted to do something special for you, so just enjoy it.”

Lance was right about that. You’re a homebody; you love the comfort of your home and feel at peace there. It’s a safety blanket of sorts, you preferred the ease it came with when at home. Not that you didn’t enjoy going outside or to fancy places with Lance but he seemed more himself, like he wasn’t putting on some show, it was nice.

Lance pulled you towards the front desk where he stated his name; you were then led to your table. The place was fancy as hell, beautiful chandeliers, crystal glass champagne flutes. It looked expensive, you hated when Lance spent loads of money on you. You have your own job, it’s how you met Lance but he loved to spoil you and you wanted to hate it, his face of excitement when he does spoil you makes you melt.

“I know you hate it when I spoil you,” Lance began, sitting across from you, “but it’s Valentines’ Day and it’s like the only day of the year, except Christmas and Birthday, which I can’t be told off for splurging.” You chuckled and nodded in agreement.

Lance ordered champagne, ignoring your look when he said the most expensive. You couldn’t really be mad at him; he only showed this affection around you, it was like you were his weakness. He becomes a little soft whenever around you. You made light chat as you both looked over the menu, everything sounded delicious and you couldn’t really decide, you were feeling pretty hungry also.

Before you could ask Lance for help the sprightful, young waitress bounced over. “Ready to order?” Her bright smile completely aimed at your boyfriend, you pushed down the jealousy because you were sort of used to this.

Used to girls and women all fawning over Lance Tucker, it was understandable from just looking at him and he had his past, not that you ever judged him on it but it made the first year… not easy. You couldn’t blame him, he hadn’t met you and didn’t really like the thought of settling down but then he met you, and it took a lot of convincing to get you on a date.

So, you weren’t going to play the jealous girlfriend tonight.

“I can recommend anything,” her voice dropped a little in tone, a light play of suggestiveness to it and you glanced at Lance.

He hadn’t even looked up from his menu, yet, too busy looking it over. “I think I’ll have the lobster,” he finally glanced up, smiling and pacing the menu to her. She let out this little, high-pitched giggle and then looked to you.

You felt her eyes drag down your face and upper body, pursing her lips in slight disappointment, you felt slightly uncomfortable with it. Her piercing blue eyes as she waited for your order, she let out this sigh of impatience like you were taking up her time with Lance when in fact, it was the opposite.

“Uh-I’ll have the pan-seared chicken with shallots,” you handed the menu gently out to her and she takes with a little quirk of her eyebrow in response to you. She turned offering another sultry smile to Lance before walking away, you watching the back of her as she left.

It took Lance light chuckle to pull you back, you flushed out of embarrassment. “I’m sorry that still happens,” he tells you gently, offering his hand across the table for you and you gladly take it.

“It’s expected when you still look like that,” you shrugged and he let out another chuckle, shaking his head at you. “You haven’t given me any reason to feel jealous, I just hate it,” you sighed.

He squeezes your hand softly, drawing attention to his eyes. “Hey, I feel the same way when we go out and guys openly check you out. I love you, okay?”

You blushed lightly and chuckled, “I love you too. Although, I don’t have millions of fans across the country like you do but I hear what you’re saying.” He rolled his eyes but grinned.

Your food was served by the flirty waitress, who lingered a little too long when bending over to serve Lance’s meal and you tried to brush off how irritated you got. You didn’t want to ruin the evening by creating a scene, yet she was blushing and giggling, it was starting to become pretty old quickly. When she finally left, you sipped your champagne in silence and ate your food a little bitterly. Lance couldn’t help it but he wasn’t exactly stopping her little show.

You talked lightly, trying not to let Lance know how irritated you are because really, you didn’t want to ruin the night he planned out. But Lance knows you, better than anyone and he knew, of course, he knew!

When you got home that’s when he decided to ask about it. “Are you okay?”

“What do you mean?” You asked walking to the bedroom and Lance following, leaning against the doorframe watching you as you tried not to give yourself away. On purposefully not looking at him, “I’m fine, promise. Why wouldn’t I be? I’m not upset that you let some waitress flirt with you, on Valentine’s Day, in front of me. I’m not upset!” You huffed sitting on the edge of the bed and taking your heels off.

Lance raised his eyebrows, “Wait… you’re upset because I let someone flirt with me?” He asked in bewilderment, you glared at him. “I hardly noticed her attempts,” you scoffed as he held back a chuckle. “Seriously, how could I notice her when you’re wearing that dress?” he asked, crossing his arms as if to prove his point.

You did specifically buy the dress for this dinner. It was a long blue, gown. The cut was a deep-v like shape, exposing a modest amount of cleavage; it exposed the necklace Lance gave you on your two-year anniversary.

He strides over to you, leisurely and smoothly, taking a hold of your hand and pulling you up from the bed. With your heels off his significantly taller than you, he isn’t mad or smirking but he has this soft smile on his face like he thinks you being jealous is the most adorable thing you do. His hands settle on your waist, pulling you flush against his toned body.

One of his hands cups your cheek causing you to look up at him. His blue eyes are soft, lovingly looking back at you and your breath hitches in your throat because it’s so intense, full of love and adoration for you and just you. He leans down and molds his lips to yours, kissing you gently. The hand cupping your cheek creeps around to the back of your neck, lightly holding you in place as he deepens the kiss, fingers playing with your hair.

He pulls away, all too soon in your opinion, resting his forehead against your own as he breathes through his nose. It’s silent as you toy with his toy, holding onto it as a lifeline of some sort. He’s staring at you when you finally look back at him, fingers stilling and lying flat against his chest.

“I love you,” he mutters above a whisper and you nod because you know he does. You know but you always have this suspicion he’ll leave, it’s always there but you know that right now, he does love you.

You both help undress one another in silence, it’s a comforting silence. A warm kind of silence, a silence that speaks volumes between you because you don’t need to say words, it’s comforting and nice. Lance unzips your dress slowly, helping you step out of it and picking it up to drape over the vanities chair.

You both resume kissing as you lay on the bed, wrapped in Lance’ arms, as he softly caresses your body. He’s being extra gentle tonight, soft kisses and teasing touches, it’s different to how this usual happens but it’s a nice different. It’s like he wants to prove how much he loves you with each touch, each lick and nip of your skin. He didn’t leave any inch of your skin untouched. Every nerve felt like it was on fire, his touch felt scorching but yet, so good.

He had you on the brink of demise so, so many, times only to pull back. It was pure torture but the best kind because when he finally had you coming undone, it felt like everything stopped. The world, time and your breathing, everything just stopped moving.

Lance lay on top of you, breathing heavily against the crook of your neck as you fingers carded through his thick, damp hair. You felt his lips trail kisses on your collar bone, sending shivers up your spine as you breathily chuckled.

“Happy Valentines’ Day, baby,” he muttered hotly against your neck, pulling himself up to kiss your lips sweetly. “I did have a gift to give you but…” he trailed off signature smirk settling on his face as he looked down at you.

You chuckled, hands moving to rest on his broad shoulders, “Wait, you mean this wasn’t my present?” You asked; he rolled his eyes still grinning boyishly. “You naked on top of me? The present better be a puppy because that’s the only thing that can top this.”

He raised an eyebrow and laughed, rolling off of you as he carried on laughing to himself about what you said. You watched him with a little grin of your own, moving to rest your head against his chest, an arm wrapping around your body as he still shook with laughter.

“How in the world would a puppy beat sex with me?” He asked after a few seconds of silence.

(Super original title, I know. Don’t judge me, I couldn’t think of one and it’s 3am right now. If I think of something better I’ll change it to that but for now. Anyway, sorry I take so long to update Not An Athlete, my lance Tucker series but I just want every chapter to be good. - Rosalee)

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It had been a week since we came home from the hospital. The first couple of days she had been fine, moving around in the house, watching movies with me on the couch, but on day four we had to move everything down to the guest room since she was no longer able to climb the stairs. Yesterday she didn’t manage to get out of bed at all, and the doctors are now talking hours, maybe a day.

As I sit by the breakfast table, alone, I call my mom to let her know what’s going on. We don’t talk for long because dad are already packing their bags. He had loaded them in the car before we hang up. My parents love (YN), they always have. I still remember the lecture my mom gave me after I brought (YN) to Dallas for the first time.

“She’s special to you, Jensen. I can tell by the way you look at her and how she looks at you. You should just tell her how you feel now so that you can start your lives together, I guarantee you’re going to regret it if you don’t.”

The all too familiar lump forms in my throat as I replay her words in my head. I know that my mind should be here, in the present, that I should savor every moment we have left, but it’s hard not to dwell on all the things we’ve missed out on in the past, and the things we will miss out on in the future. I shoot a quick text to Jared, telling him that she’s nearing the end of her life, letting him know that if they want to say goodbye they should probably come over soon.